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Phone Booth

Well, that’s it. An end of an era. The neighborhood’s last tolerable bar that empowered us to puff our way through intoxication has banned the very act.

We’re sure this news isn’t a big deal to many of you, our health-conscious readers of pristine lung capacity. But we welcomed the bar’s casual “fuck you” to the law. Besides, where else could we make-out with girls we have an increased chance of outliving?

Now what’s left of the place? Pool, cheap drinks, a great jukebox, and that east coast dive feel ever so lacking in SF? Balderdash. Cigarettes were the blackened glue that held the joint together. And now? Nothing.

Look, Mark. We get it. You are our generation's poster child for technological innovation and entrepreneurship. You are the CEO of a very powerful company that connects the world with their closest friends and boredest aunts. Justin Timberlake invented Napster for you. You are person of the year 2007-200FOREVER. And that's great! I'm proud to call myself one of your 500 zillion friends that you didn't get to without making a few enemies.

But recently, Mark, you've been being kind of a dick. I was at the Phone Booth last night, a local cigar humidifierItalian wedding bar that you have been known to frequentbe at one time, and while using the restroom, I found something you left behind.

Ok? Man? Shuthefuckuperburg. It's very wonderful you that you are having your IPO and you are marrying beautiful Asian doctors. We should all be so lucky to have our IPO's and marry beautiful Asian doctors. It's wonderful to open the stock market in a sweatshirt like you just invented a more casual, chiller economy. But when you walk into the bathroom and tag your CEO status on a dive urinal, you are just being a major wang. We already KNOW that you were at the Phone Booth, we here at Uptown Almanac had a field day about it. Keeping that in mind, you need to learn how to be tactful of asserting your presence when you come to the Mission. At least other Bay Area CEOs have some panache.

When Mark Zuckerberg started turning up at Mission bars such as El Rio, The Royal Cuckoo, and pseudo-dive bar Dolores Park, we kinda dismissed it because everyone goes to those places. Then he acquired Instagram, making us scratch our heads just a bit.

But last night, the 35th richest guy in the world was spotted slamming drinks at the notably cheap and filthy dive Phone Booth and making a 2:30am Farolito burrito run. Which begs the question: was Mark just trying out his billion dollar toy in its native habitat, or is he attempting to rebrand himself as just a regular ol' Mission hipster?

See, he actually drove 45 minutes north from his fancy Palo Alto HQ to hang out at a bar known for its questionable indoor smoking policy and access to shitty last-call coke dealers. That's not to say we don't like The Phone Booth, because we do. But to claim the place is a “destination bar” for people coming from out of town is a bit of a stretch.